######################################### OK - as promised earlier, here it is, with a big thank you to Darth Tim for his suggestions. Consider this a personal, engraved invitation to submit your poetic efforts here. I'm hoping that we have lots of poets around here, who will be encouraged to post when they see that others are doing so. To begin, we do need to set up a few rules, or all will be chaos - but I promise they will be few and unintrusive. First - any form of verse is welcome - rhymed or not - metered or not - free verse, blank verse, sonnets, limericks, haiku - you name it. The only limit in the strictest sense is in length: one post entries only, please. While many of us might adore seeing a SW vision of Paradise Lost - it would be confusing on a multi-contribution board, so anyone wanting to write such an epic should open up a board just for that. In addition - since it is, in effect, MY board - - and we all have our built-in biases, I'm going to stipulate that the subject matter be limited to the era from JA through RotJ - meaning no EU, no Vong, no NJO, etc. If you wish to write paeans to Jaina/Jacen/Jag/Mara, etc., etc. - please feel free to open up your own boards to do so.If you need more clarification of acceptable time period, think the birth of Obi-Wan Kenobi through the death of Vader - and maybe just a wee bit beyond. Beyond that, the subject matter, style, etc., is entirely up to you. Posts should either be a poetic effort, or responses to same, and each poem should be headed by the title and author's name - except for tidbits like haiku, which might not have a title, but should reveal the identity of the writer. DISCLAIMER: George is the man - the creator - the divine inspiration. We gift him with our undying gratitude - and our exhortations to forgive our trespasses. And that's about it, I think. I hope this will inspire a lot of people to contribute. Given the levels of artistic talent around here, I think we should get some lovely results. And - as hostess - here's the opening post. CYN From the Wastelands - by CYNICAL21 The sands are calm tonight, With starlight's spectral shadows mute and still. My eyes await the rising of the moons, But hope is poor protection from the chill. The blaze of day is dead and gone, And loneliness walks tall and solid here. In silence such as few will ever know, The living burrow deep and crouch in fear. Above my head, a panoply, Abraded by a brutal surge of light, And nothing gentle lives to tell its tale Of ghostly presence rising in the night. In solitude, I linger, And wrap myself in tattered shreds of dreams, And try to conjure magic from the dust And try to know all is not as it seems. My life is like the sand, Drifted by the winds of infamy, Sculpted from the sterile wastes of time To hold a place for visions yet to be. Within my heart, I thirst For solace that will quench the hungry flame, For gentle hands to ease my fevered brow, A tender voice to gently speak my name, To touch my soul with love And lift me up on wings, above the pain, To sing to me of seas and flowered hills, To help me find I still remember rain. The sands are calm tonight, With starlight's spectral shadows mute and still. I reach for you, and wonder if you hear, And something smiles - and says you always will. fini Comments and suggestions welcome.